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Sand Island, Apostle Islands, May 26-29, 2000
by Jody Russell

It's always nice to arrive at the campgrounds and find your friends already set up with a warm fire going and brats being roasted on sticks. What a welcome. Memorial Day weekend in the Apostles was full of interesting conversation, a variety of good food, and above all, Lake Superior showing its many faces.

There were 7 of us on the trip (Chuck Holst, Dave Hamilton, Jeremy Speers, Jeff Kidder, Dave Hintzman, Rhett Taber and me), though one of the interesting dimensions to this trip was how folks came and went and yet the group maintained a sense of cohesion. We camped two nights in the Town of Russell - Little Sand Island campgrounds. While it can be noisy (it was) and the facilities are meager (but not stinky), it provides a good beach for launching. I also find that sitting to watch the sun's angle onto the beach, or a walk onto the dock to feel the wind, or even just contemplating the expanse of the lake to be wonderful solace. Group events are fun, but it's nice to be able to escape for some time to the silence in the wind.

The weather in the Twin Cities was not particularly amenable to outdoors activities this weekend. Yet the Apostles must've been smiling on us because we had pretty decent weather. The only rain we got was for a short time while we slept. There was a steady wind on Saturday and Sunday, but we used it to our advantage -- we paddled in it, of course.

The original Saturday plan was scrapped due to the small craft advisory and predicted 3-5 foot waves. Instead, we packed up and drove to Meyers Beach. We were met by two other ISK members (Cathy Manning and Jim Klatt) who happened to be up north for the weekend as well. I'm not a good judge of wave height, but others thought them to be 2-3 feet (they seemed kind of large to me). I was among those who hadn't seen that kind of paddling. What a blast! I guess I evaluate waves by how my fellow paddlers disappeared in the waves -- the more they disappeared, the more fun it all seemed. My Romany seemed to cruise through those waves without too much effort. I was ecstatic being out there. The waves also gave us all a chance to practice landings on the beach as well. What a rush. Not everyone stayed in their boats, however, which made for some surprised looks. After a quick lunch (okay, not so quick lunch, but the eating is half the fun of kayak trips, isn't it?) some of us went back out for a bit more play time in the waves which had increased in size.

Saturday night's spaghetti feast was a great way to end the day. The night air was cold enough to see our breath, but the fire kept going and the tequila and merlot (and hot tea) was plentiful. This was the kind of evening where we all wore the majority of the layers in our gear, bundled around the fire, talking until the only rain of the weekend moved in.

Sunday morning we packed up and headed to Sand Island. The wind wasn't blowing too much, but there were large swells to paddle through. (After a day home, I'm still moving up and down on them.) It was a quick jaunt over to the island and we set up camp, had lunch, and then split up to play in different ways. One of us napped. Two of us traded boats and played in the bay. And three of us headed over to the caves on the island. I have paddled in clapotis waves before -- those wild waves that come from the lake as well as rebound off the land (the caves in this case). But nothing quite like these waves -- they were unpredictable, unsettling and coming apparently from all directions.

As you go up on one wave, another comes from the side and it's a strange experience. Whereas on Saturday, I could maintain one direction into the wind and the waves and find a pattern in my paddling, in this situation, it's hard to know which way to go. I felt a level of tension build and then realized that the best thing to do would be to relax, paddle, and not worry about it. The waves seemed edgy and unpredictable (like me before dinner). We paddled through them and took a break on the beach in the next bay. Then we turned around and paddled back. It didn't seem so threatening on the way back -- a little confidence in myself and in my boat helped...

Later, we hiked around Sand Island. Some went to the lighthouse, some back to the site of the old farm. In the late afternoon, while sitting on the dock, we spied two paddlers coming our way. More ISKers! Matt and Laurie Kania had been on their own adventure, including a clean up of Stockton Island, and joined us for the night. Our potluck was an interesting and huge festival of foods, ranging from Jeremy's meat chunks to Matt and Laurie's seaweed -- but somehow (and not being a native midwesterner, I don't understand this whole pot luck concept) there was something from every part of the food pyramid and we ate plenty. Mike Wolf, an ISK member who happened to be camping beside us in Little Sand Bay, donated a bottle of red wine to the trip before we left, and that capped off the meal (for me, anyway).

Monday morning began early. We all woke at 6:00 a.m. and paddled to the sea caves to explore them before the wind picked up and in the early light. They were beautiful, calm, quiet. We went back for breakfast and then broke camp and headed back to the mainland.

Thanks to all who made this trip such a good one.
jodytent

A few more photos...